Wow, I'm writing fanfiction for something other than fullmetal alchemist? Amazing. Anyway... This started out from Artemis's point of view, but I wasn't happy with how it was working out, so I rewrote the entire scene, keeping only the dialogue the same. It works a lot better this way.

I own nothing.

Angeline Fowl sat perfectly still in the darkness, pillows piled up behind her, covers wrapped tightly around her. Her skin was pale, her eyes wide and bloodshot, her hair a mess.

There was a rapping on the door and her head shot round, eyes wild.

"Good morning, mother," came a voice from the other side. "Juliet is busy, so she asked me to bring up your breakfast for you. May I come in?"

Angeline did not answer, but drew the covers tighter around her. The door opened, and Angeline shuddered and winced at the light, drawing ever tighter into her blankets as if afraid of the dust motes that danced in the air, or of the thin silhouette in the doorway.

Angeline frowned. "Who are you?" she demanded.

The person in the doorway frowned. He was young, she noticed, with thin features and a pale face. A small part of her, a tiny, flitting thought whispered a name- but then it was gone.

"Artemis, mother. Your son. Maybe if you let me open the curtains..." the stranger said, and Angeline felt panic dance through her.

"No!" she said quickly. Who was this stranger? Why was he here? Why was he pretending to be her son? That wasn't her Artemis, her Arty, her little boy- Arty was not so old, not so stiff and pale and drawn...

"Mother, please, the darkness isn't good for you," the stranger protested. "I'm beginning to worry, perhaps you should see a doctor-"

"Who are you?" she demanded again. "What are you doing in my house?"

The stranger blinked, looking confused- the expression looked odd on his face, as if he were unused to it. "I'm your son," he said again. "Mother, are you feeling alright?"

"I don't know who you are, but you aren't my son," insisted Angeline. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

The stranger's face was suddenly shocked and ill looking. Angeline wondered why.

"Mother- don't you- don't you recognise me?" the stranger asked. He sounded... vulnerable, thought Angeline. That was the word.

Why did that thought make her heart clench?

He's not my son, she thought. He can't be. My son is not like this.

She felt suddenly afraid of him. What if he's dangerous?

"Stop calling me mother!" she shrieked at him. "I don't know who you are, but I'm warning you, I won't stand for this! Butler! BUTLER!"

The stranger seemed to choke, seemed horrified- another expression that looked out of place on his face, another expression that made something inside her ache. Why?

"Mother, it's me! Artemis- Arty. Your son!"

Artemis? she thought. No, no, that's not him- that's not him! "No! Get out, get out- BUTLER! BUTLER!" Angeline's voice raised a few decibels. "BUTLER!"

"Mrs Fowl?"

The giant manservant stood uncertainly in the doorway, looking between the stranger and Angeline, clearly confused. "What's the problem? Mrs Fowl- Master Artemis?"

Can't he see? thought Angeline. And why is he talking to Artemis? Artemis isn't here! Unless- perhaps they are working together?

"My son is not here, Butler," she told him coldly, furious and afraid that he was playing along with the stranger's charade. "And if you cannot see the problem, then perhaps you are growing a little old? Clearly the problem is the intruder!"

There, there, you see? I am not fooled by your ridiculous games, either of you! she thought triumphantly.

However, Butler only looked more confused. "Intruder- your son isn't here?" he looked at the stranger, apparently baffled. Angeline drew the covers even tighter around herself.

"I am the intruder, Butler." the stranger said softly. "Mother does not-"

Angeline cut him off, furiously. "Stop calling me mother!"

The stranger looked oddly helpless- yet again, an expression that did not fit, that made her long to reach out to him- who was he, to affect her so?

Butler frowned. "Ah," he said quietly. "I see."

Angeline scowled. "Butler, why are you not removing this man? Get him out, out, out!"

Butler's frown deepened. "Mrs Fowl, he's not an intruder. You-"

"Butler," the stranger interrupted him.

"Yes, Artemis?" asked Butler, and Mrs Fowl wanted to scream. No, that's not him, that's not him! Are you blind, can you not see- or are you playing his games?

However, the stranger answered before she could. "Cease and desist." he told Butler, in clipped tones. Mrs Fowl blinked away a tear, and frowned- why was she crying? She suddenly realised that whoever this stranger was, she hated seeing him like this- emotionless, cold, businesslike. Why?

Butler's frown deepened. "Artemis-" he said, but he was cut off by the stranger.

"No, Butler. Mrs Fowl is quite right. I am sorry to have bothered you, Madame, I shall leave at once." and he did.

Butler looked uncertainly at Angeline, and then, hesitantly, followed the stranger from the room, locking the door behind him.

Alone once more, Angeline shivered. An image of her son, hurt and abandoned, flitted before her eyes for a moment- and then it was gone, and Angeline lost herself to the dark.